


A Matter of Efficiency

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Steve's Crack That Is), Alcohol, Butt Plugs, Drunk Steve, Enemas To Lovers, Fluff, Fun, Get Together, I'm Sorry, M/M, The Butt Chug Fic, Tony Thinks About Steve's Ass A Lot, verging on crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Somehow, Steve is defying all known science about him and managing to get drunk. Regularly. Tony is determined to figure out how.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 57
Kudos: 569
Collections: Steve's Birthday Party (PotsCast), Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	A Matter of Efficiency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_jack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/gifts), [tina_v](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tina_v/gifts), [willidothefandango (nagth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagth/gifts).



> Thank you to blue_jack, fan, and tina for helping me make this happen and the rests of the POTS server for helping me brainstorm. Thanks to ashy for beta.
> 
> Sorry to everyone else...

Tony watched from a stool at the bar, twisting the stem of a wine glass full of orange juice between his fingers. Steve, Nat, and Sam were at the pool table, all laughing, stumbling, and bumping into each other. The game could be called "pool" for a very loose definition of both "pool" and "game," but there was no doubt they were having fun, and that made Tony smile.

Tony, for his part, had cut way back on the drinking. He'd indulge in a glass of champagne or a beer, but while the rest of the Avengers were working on their second or third, he was usually finishing up his last. And he'd switch to something else after that. His father had lost so much to drinking - his relationship with Tony, his advancement in SHIELD. Nearly his whole family, more than once. Tony had a family now; he couldn't bear to risk losing it.

He'd worried - needlessly, he now knew - that he wouldn't be fun without it. That being older and busier was already a barrier between him and his team, but that being soberer was a wall he wouldn't be able to climb.

None of them had brought it up, though. They included him in everything, laughed at his jokes, made him virgin cocktails without even asking. Nat would sit in his lap when her whiskey made her sleepy, and Wanda would ask to wear his suit jacket when she stopped dancing and the cool air chilled her. Sam would sling his arm around Tony's shoulders and mock him with that sharp, dry wit that never failed to make Steve laugh, and Steve…

Well.

Tony's eyes cut to the supersoldier now, watching as he giggled and slumped over the edge of the pool table, trying to line up a cue - the wrong way around. Tony's eyes didn't drift away, stuck on him. He could argue that he was just trying to solve the mystery that had been plaguing him for a few months now, but the truth was, Steve was some pretty damn good eye candy, mystery or no.

Still, he wondered… Tony had read Steve's files long before he'd been found in the ice and it was stated unequivocally that Steven Grant Rogers could not get drunk. There were pages of medical exams done by the army as well as modern research papers based on all known documentation, and they all concluded without question that his metabolism simply processed the alcohol too fast for him to feel an effect. And yet, the Steven Grant Rogers currently draped sloppily over Natasha's back said otherwise.

But there _was_ something weird about it. The same thing happened every time they had the sort of raucous gathering that led to inebriation. Steve would show up five minutes before everyone else, already smashed. He'd slide in easily, fill a cup at the bar, and no one ever noticed that he was drunk before the party started. No one except Tony, who noticed absolutely everything about Steve, right down to the fact that he didn't have boxer lines in his skin-tight superhero suit, which had spawned an entire night of in-depth "intellectual pursuit" on Tony's part, his seminar in conclusion given only to a bottle of lube and a box of tissues.

But the mystery of Steve's secret drinking didn't stop there. About halfway through the party, he'd seem to sober up. While everyone else was getting progressively sloppier, he'd start to stand up straighter, speak more clearly, and lose the light pink dusting on his cheeks that never seemed to plague him when he was sober. At that point, Steve would excuse himself, be gone for about fifteen minutes, and come back even more wasted than before. By then, the rest of the party goers would be too drunk to notice or care.

Again, except for Tony.

Because he'd be a little obsessed with Steve even if he weren't sneaking off to get secret-drunk when it should be impossible.

There were only two solutions Tony had been able to come up with. Either someone - Thor maybe? - had provided him with something stronger than your average alcoholic bear, and Steve didn't want anyone else to know about it, or he was injecting alcohol directly in his veins which sounded dangerous as fuck. There were no track marks, though, and even Captain American didn't heal that fast, so Tony had to assume the first. 

That didn't answer a big, glaring question, though - why hide it? Thor openly had strong, Asgardian mead, and he shared it publicly with Steve from his flask more than once. It seemed to have some, small effect, but Steve burned through the slight buzz so quickly that it had hardly seemed worth it. Thor also seemed to covet his small stash and while Tony was sure he'd give Steve the shirt off his back, even if he gave him his entire flask, it wouldn't be more than one evening's worth.

So either Steve had found a stash from someone else and he didn't want to share, or Tony was completely wrong about the whole thing.

Tony's last - and perhaps most pressing - concern was why Steve was doing whatever he was doing alone. Everyone at the party was consuming alcohol, even if Steve had some strange super-powered brew hidden in his closet, why sneak off to inebriate alone? It reminded Tony of both himself and his father, and that made him worry. What if Steve was getting drunk more often than just parties? What if the nights Tony didn't see him, he was drinking his blues away all on his lonesome? It didn't take a therapist - though Tony had seen fourteen of them before he'd quite processed this particular revelation - to know that was risky behaviour.

So Tony was worried. And this time, when the game finished and Steve looked a little too sober, Tony slipped out of the room with him. He just needed to know Steve was being safe.

Steve took the stairs up to his room, and Tony waited down the hall until Steve was through his door. Tony counted to thirty, giving Steve time to get up to whatever he was getting up to, then he knocked softly and pushed the door open, not giving Steve time to hide.

Of all the things Tony had pondered he might find, this hadn't even begun to cross his mind.

Steve was on his hands and knees on the floor of his bathroom - the open door of which was a straight line of sight to the front door of his apartment - and he was pouring vodka, not down his throat, but directly into his ass. There was a tube that disappeared into the pucker of Steve's hole and at the other end was a bag. Next to Steve's elbow was a near-empty bottle of vodka. 

Holy _shit._

"Oh my god!" Steve spun around - and okay so perhaps Tony had accidentally cursed out loud - trying to hide his shame, but there was just so much of it that in the end, there really wasn't anything he could do. He was ass out, dick out, and being pumped full of Smirnoff in a direct, do not pass the liver, do not collect $100 dollars line to Steve's bloodstream.

"I can't believe butt chugging never occurred to me," Tony said.

Steve whimpered and tugged a towel off the rack to cover his lap. _"Tony."_

"God, I'm sorry. I just - I was worried about you and -" Tony half-turned to go then stopped and turned back. "You know it's pretty dangerous, right? It's hard to control how much you're getting."

Steve sighed. "It's not dangerous for me. It's barely concerning, really. It's… it's a matter of efficiency. I don't think I could actually hold enough in my body to give me alcohol poisoning."

Tony's mind shorted out then started a reboot sequence as he thought through the implications of Steve's body taking all that it was given. "Okay, good," he was finally able to say. "That's good. That you're being safe."

Steve squirmed where he still sat on the tile floor. For some reason, he hadn't started throwing shampoo bottles at Tony yet. "You don't think it's…?"

"I mean it's _creative,_ I'll give you that. And it's miles better than injecting it, that's for sure. Even if you _were_ at risk for overdosing, that would still be better than an air embolism. I guess it's the only way you can get drunk?"

Steve nodded. "I know it's… silly. And kind of degrading. But I just want to have fun with my friends, the way everyone else gets to. And I read about some kids getting too drunk, too fast this way, and JARVIS helped me do the math and order some stuff. It really does work."

"It's a cheat code."

"I guess so. Do you think it's too reckless?"

"No, no, I mean, you're probably right. Considering how quickly you process toxins… Not that there's _no_ danger. I think you're probably wrong about… uh, _capacity._ But as long as you're careful."

Steve chewed his lip. "It's kind of hard to control, actually. It's… awkward. And I can't really do a good job of measuring how much is… uh. Yeah. Plus it's really awkward to have to come up and do this every few hours, not going to lie." Steve turned puppy-dog eyes on Tony. "I don't suppose… I don't suppose you can think of a better way? I mean now that you know, I suppose I might as well ask, huh?"

A hundred alarm bells went off in Tony's mind. He _knew_ spending such a considerable amount of time thinking about Steve's ass was going to be the death of him, but he still couldn't help the, "Yeah, I'll think about it," that spilled out of his mouth. 

Steve brightened. "Thank you, Tony. Really." He shifted on the floor then blinked. "Um."

"What?"

"Well. The bag is half full still but the first half just hit me and I don't know if I can do this now." He giggled. "I don't usually pause halfway through." He reached for the bottle and almost knocked it over.

Tony swooped in and grabbed it before it hit the hard tile. 

"Shit." Steve rocked to the side.

"Maybe that's enough for now."

Steve pouted. "But then I'll just be back up here in half an hour. I've figured out pretty much how much it takes and it's just a waste to do less. I can do it." Steve fumbled the tube which disappeared under the towel.

"Oh god, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but do you need help?"

The puppy-dog eyes were back. "Would you?"

"Would I give Captain America an enema in the name of life, liberty, and the American Way of getting totally blasted on a Friday night?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, fine. Shuck the towel, Lady Liberty."

Steve rolled over onto his hands and knees and all but shoved his ass in Tony's face. He wobbled a bit so he dropped to his elbows which forced his back into a perfect arch. 

"Fuck," Tony breathed, eyes flicking up to the ceiling as he begged the powers that be to bless him with even more compartmentalization than he normally needed just to get through daily life. "Okay. Let's do this. Slow and steady, yeah?"

Steve nodded and dropped his forehead to his arms. Tony lifted the bag and let gravity do most of the work. Gravity, however, was having little effect on certain, interested, parts of Tony. Steve mostly remained still and quiet, but even without moaning and writhing, Tony's had no trouble imagining sinking something other than the enema tube in Steve's willing ass. 

Tony looked at the ceiling and counted to ten. The last of the bag emptied and he squeezed it and rolled it for a minute then set it on the floor. "Um."

Steve shifted his hips down and turned away. "I can handle the rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm used to doing this part drunk."

"Okay. I'll just - I'll wait outside for you, okay? And we can go back to the party together."

Steve smiled like the sun. "Thanks, Tony. I really appreciate you being so nice about this. I know it's weird and uncomfortable."

"You're my best friend, Steve. It's not weird or uncomfortable." Tony's pants, however, were getting extremely uncomfortable. "I just want you to be happy. You know people do weirder shit for less compelling reasons."

Steve's gentle smile quirked into a cheeky smirk. "Oh, I know."

Tony swallowed. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "Welp." Tony pushed to his feet and turned away at the same time, hiding his awkward bulge. "Be careful." He slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He walked briskly into Steve's kitchen and poured himself a class of cold water. 

Science. That was the distraction he needed. 

Perhaps there was a better way to solve Steve's little problem… A way that didn't involve Tony needing to get up close and personal with his glorious backside on a regular basis - because now that he knew Steve was doing this, it was going to be next to impossible not to offer his help if Steve needed it. He hadn't been kidding that it could be dangerous, even with someone like Steve. There was no telling how Steve's super-metabolism would respond to alcohol poisoning and Tony didn't want to test it.

Sadly, besides injecting it which was definitely out, rectally seemed like the best way to consume his alcohol. The only ways Tony could think to use Steve's mouth (besides all the ways he was carefully _not_ thinking about) involved needing to temporarily deactivate his liver which didn't seem like a great plan. But the enema was risky, it was messy and difficult to do, and it didn't last long enough. So he needed a rear-wheel drive method that controlled intake to be the exact arc of inebriation one would get from drinking the normal way…

"Hey, Tony," Steve slurred, suddenly right beside him. "I feel _great._ Thank you."

Tony caught Steve's shoulder as he listed violently to port. "Hey, big guy. I'm glad. You know I'll always help you."

"I know." Steve met Tony's eyes, his gaze soft and sincere and heart-stoppingly affectionate. "That's why you're the best, Tony. Honest."

"Um. Okay. Thanks. Well, let's go back down."

"Okay." Steve stumbled into Tony a bit more, leaning heavily on him, and, oh lord, Tony wanted to let his weight take them both to the floor, but if his cheeks got any hotter they might turn to ash.

Tony hooked an arm around Steve's waist and led him to the elevator, Steve going easily like a well-behaved puppy. Down at the party, Tony handed the drunk Steve off to Natasha, who seemed the soberest, and the ever watchful eyes of JARVIS. As much as he wanted to stay and enjoy the sloshed fruits of his labour, he had an idea now, and he needed to see it through.

Tony made his way down to the workshop and opened a new project file. 

**

"You did _not_ just call this a 'drip-irrigation system for my ass.'" Steve leveled a surly pout in Tony's direction.

"Well that's what it is! Unless you prefer I name it after one of those glass, plant watering spikes you _stab_ into the dirt and -"

"Be quiet now." Steve tapped a finger against Tony's forehead and Tony's mouth snapped shut. "It's… I appreciate the thought, but… well." Steve's face twisting up uncomfortably.

"I would have thought, since you're willing to stick the enema up there, that it wouldn't bother you to use a different method?"

Steve squirmed. "No, it's not that. I mean, it's just. It's a sex toy." He held up the alcohol administration system Tony had built for him, and well, yes, it was a butt plug. Essentially. But a really smart one.

"It's _shaped_ like a sex toy. It's not -"

"Tony."

Tony sighed. "Look, there's nothing gay about it, okay? Your virtue is still intact. I just had to shape it like this so it'd stay put."

Steve burst out laughing. "Tony… I'm not worried about it feeling _gay._ I'm worried about it feeling _good._ I'm going to be at a party with my friends, drunk as a skunk so my filter is obliterated, with this up my ass?" He brandished the Booze Plug. "What if I say something stupid?"

"Like 'ooh yeah, JARVIS, inebriate me harder?'" Tony suggested. He was rather proud of how collected he was managing to appear while inside he was having a complete mental breakdown at the new knowledge that Steve didn't just stick things up his butt for partying purposes, but was at the very least interested in sticking things up his butt for pleasure purposes. Tony tried to make his tongue form around the words that would make it clear to Steve why _exactly_ he'd felt the enemas weren't a good solution anymore, but he couldn't say it.

Steve nodded. "Exactly. That's exactly what I was thinking. Sounds just like me."

"Well, I think that's between you and your god, buddy. I mean, obviously, you're not obligated to use it just cause I made it. But it was the only way I could think of doing it, and it's as small as I can possibly make it, though I will keep thinking about it and see if I can streamline it."

Steve turned the plug around in his hand then frowned. "I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful."

"No, no, it's okay."

"No, seriously, Tony. I am _so_ grateful. This is something most people would never want to talk about again, and I get that it's weird and too personal but I really appreciate you helping me. Makes it feel like I'm not so crazy for being willing to go out of my way to get tipsy with my friends." He dropped his eyes to his feet. "Just want to feel normal sometimes."

Tony gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze. "It's okay. I get it. I really do. I just want you to be safe."

Steve's cheeks heated. "I'll try this next time. You'll cover for me if I say anything weird, right?"

"I'm not really sure how I can spin 'I have the equivalent of a beer bottle sponge up my ass right now' but I'll do my best."

Steve laughed. "Thank you, Tony, really."

Tony escaped back to his room and screamed into a pillow until he was dizzy.

**

_ >>> Hey, Tony. Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to tell you that I'm testing the… uh… device out tonight on my own so if it's uncomfortable I'm not stuck wearing it at a party. It just seemed safest if you knew? But JARVIS knows too, of course. _

_ <<< Better safe than sorry. Text me when you sober up. _

_ >>> Okay, thank you. _

Steve went silent, and Tony couldn't help but imagine what he was up to. The way Steve had worried about it feeling too good… when he said "uncomfortable" he was probably actually testing that he wouldn't pop a boner in front of his team mates.

What would it feel like for Steve? To slide that plug in and out, fucking himself on it while he got drunker and drunker. Head spinning, dizzy and giggly as his pleasure wound tighter and tighter.

A newly urgent situation in Tony's pants forced him to lean back in his chair and adjust himself. How wrong was it to jack off to mental images of your teammate and best friend getting heartily railed to hands-free completion by the booze-administering butt plug you'd given him? Tony tapped the edge of his desk with one finger. Maybe Reddit would know…

Tony's phone buzzed again, pulling him out of his thoughts.

_ >>> toooWiiii hhhiii _

Tony couldn't help smiling down at his phone. He deeply regretted not offering to join Steve for his experiment as scientific back up. But it was too late now if Steve was already this wasted.

_ <<< Hey, buddy, you plastered? _

_ >>> ouiiiuiuiuuiiii _

_ <<< not sure if that's an attempt at french or just random letters _

_ >>> je speak frech uu knowww _

_ <<< I know _

_> >> nat todl me its sgecy wen you speak french_   
_ >>> sexuy  
>>> sexy_

_ <<< When I do? Or when anyone does? _

There was a long pause.

_ >>> nannayone _

_ <<< I mean maybe not anyone, but certainly when you do _

_ >>> oh good _

_ <<< you wanna be sexy? _

_ >>> yeah _

Tony's fingers hovered over the keyboard, desperate to ask, _for who?_ But he couldn't bring himself to do it when Steve was so clearly under the influence.

_ <<< Don't worry, bud, you're really sexy. All the time, in all languages _

_ >>> rony _

_ <<< Yeah? _

_ >>> tahnk you _

_ <<< Any time. _

_ >>> I'm agonn slep now _

_ <<< Good plan. I'll check on you in the morning. _

"J, you'll make sure he takes it out before he passes out?"

"Of course, sir."

Tony waited in silence, tapping his phone on his hand, until JARVIS said, "Captain Rogers is safely in bed."

"Thank you, J."

"I live to serve, sir."

**

The next party was agony.

Tony had it in his head it'd somehow be easier, but now he had memories of pouring vodka straight into Steve's ass _and_ the knowledge that now he was wearing a butt plug of his own design. 

From a scientific standpoint, Tony had to pat himself on the back; the thing clearly worked. Steve sipped cocktails and slipped further and further into inebriation as the night went on. Tony enjoyed the party too, but his mind kept swinging back to Steve and his vodka-fueled fun. And his vodka-filled ass. 

And perhaps the worst part of it was that Steve seemed to be thinking about him too. His eyes kept swinging Tony's way, offering him a secret, little smile, like they were sharing in this. Tony wanted to share in this, fuck yeah he did, but part of why he'd changed from the enema to the plug was to give himself more distance. If he could have found a way to alcohol infuse his dick and give Steve his dose himself, he probably would have, but he didn't think Steve would find it very romantic to hear, "I would inject vodka into my balls for you."

Reddit would be no help at all on that one.

Steve smiled again, and Tony swapped his orange juice for Nat's whiskey sour. It didn't help at all that he kept having ideas for how he could improve the Booze Plug. He took a few sips and let the burn fortify him then passed the drink back. 

For the rest of the party, every time he thought about Steve's hole clenching down around the plug, he forced himself to pivot to mathing out a better curve, designing a more consistent delivery system, and trying to come up with literally any name that wasn't Booze Plug.

By the end of the party, he nearly had himself under control.

The team said their goodnights and trickled out. Tony tidied up a few bottles, found his jacket under the pool table, and took to one of the empty elevators, but Steve appeared out of nowhere and slipped in beside him. "Hey, Tony."

"Hey, bud. How you doing?"

Steve beamed. "Great. That was perfect. Thank you so much."

"I'm glad it works for you. I have some ideas for how to improve it, actually."

"Oh, no, Tony, I couldn't possibly ask you to spend more time on this. You've already done too much."

Tony dropped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. "Not at all. I can't let you walk around with subpar tech. That was always a prototype."

"Tony," Steve breathed, low and soft and on a direct line to Tony's dick, "you're too good to me."

Tony, speechless, stood there and gaped at Steve's kind, affectionate smile until the elevator doors chimed and slid open. 

"Goodnight." Steve stepped out.

"Goodnight," Tony mumbled, still staring after the door had closed. 

**

"How far is too far, J?"

"I'm not sure this is something I'm equipped to have an opinion on, sir."

Tony stared down at the new Booze Plug design he was holding. It had just sort of _happened._ He hadn't really _meant_ to give it vibrating functionality, but the way the mechanics were designed just lent themselves to it. And then designing the software had barely been more than a snap of his fingers.

And now the thing that he had sworn up and down to Steve wasn't a sex toy was _definitely a sex toy,_ and he wasn't sure how to tell him that. _"He_ was the one who mentioned feeling good."

"Indeed," JARVIS replied dryly.

"He doesn't have to turn it on if he doesn't want to." Tony picked up his phone and clicked to the little app he'd built. He tested it again, and the device buzzed to life in his hand then died down again when he hit the off button. "It's just good to have options, right?"

This time, JARVIS didn't deign to reply. 

Tony grumbled while he grabbed a box from the corner of the room. He stuffed the plug inside in case anyone ran into him on the way up, and made for the elevator. He just had to get it over with. _Hey, Steve,_ he practiced in his head, _this new plug is better shaped, has a more even distribution system, and also happens to vibrate like a broken washing machine on speed. Need help testing it out?_

Tony sighed and leaned back until his head hit the wall of the elevator with a _thunk._ There really was no way to deny it. Tony had turned the stupid plug into an actual sex toy because he wanted to turn his friendship with Steve into a relationship. Like, if he offered the damn thing, Steve would be like _Ooh, thank you Tony. It's just what I've always wanted. Fuck me into next week with it? And then maybe we could get married and have lots of babies._

Tony scowled wondering why his mock-Steve voice sounded a bit like Miss Piggy. Then the elevator doors opened, and Tony forced himself to knock before he could back out. 

Steve appeared. "Tony! Hey."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Tony stepped inside and immediately shoved the box at Steve. "So happy birthday. I got you a real present too, for the party tonight, but I thought you'd prefer not to open this one in front of everyone."

Steve pried the cardboard flaps open and his cheeks coloured. "Oh. Wow. Thank you Tony."

"It has - a - a - it - Uh. It has a… better delivery system…"

"That's awesome. Thank you."

"Should be… more comfortable too."

Steve just smiled at Tony.

This was the part where Tony told him about the other feature.

Any minute now.

He'd just say, "Oh and it vibrates too," and Steve would be cool with that.

Tony stared at Steve who was staring serenely back at him.

He'd just say it.

"Welp. See you tonight!" Tony turned on his heel and marched out.

**

Tony opted not to arrive fashionably late this time, actually heading down to the party room early to help Nat put up a banner. Steve had asked them all not to make a fuss, which meant they'd done exactly enough fussing to make it look like a fuss without actually fussing at all. There were decorations and presents, and party hats, and Bruce had made red, white, and blue jello shots. Sam and Bucky had baked the cake, which looked delicious, if a bit tilted to the left. 

The rest, Tony'd had catered. There were only about twenty-five guests, but the way they'd arranged the space made it feel full and cosy and alive. Steve's invitation had said fifteen minutes later than everyone else's, so even though he showed up five minutes early, they were all already there and their shout of "Happy birthday, Steve!" turned his cheeks bright red. 

Which also meant he had the plug in.

It was almost impossible for Tony to pull his eyes away from Steve. Steve made the rounds, but Tony settled by the bar and it wasn't long before Rhodey settled beside him. 

"I think Rogers has something on his ass," Rhodey said, nonchalantly.

Tony tensed. Did he know? "What?"

"Your damn eyes all night."

Tony grumbled. "Leave me alone."

Rhodey sighed. "Tony, please don't tell me I have to sit here and watch you get your heart broken again."

Tony groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "Rhodey, darling, heart of my heart, love of my life. I didn't mean to, but I'm so fucked."

"Well, at least it's Steve."

"How does that help?"

Rhodey gestured towards where Steve was talking to a few SHIELD agents as if that answered the question.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "You're no help at all."

"What do you think his skincare routine is? He looks pretty flawless for pushing a hundred."

"And you look like someone who's about to be shoved off a barstool."

"I could make you a drink," Rhodey offered. "Drown your sorrows?"

"Ugh, no. Alcohol is half the reason I'm in this mess."

Alcohol was also, it seemed, having quite the effect on Steve. His cheeks had only gotten redder, the blush bleeding through to the back of his neck and disappearing under his collar. He kept shifting and rocking, and when he stood up to move away from the couch, he wobbled and nearly fell over. 

The two women he was talking to laughed and caught his arms, helping him up, but Tony couldn't help but frown. Steve must have dialed up the rate the plug was releasing at because he seemed much more drunk than last time. He seemed like he had that night in his bathroom, fumbling the enema.

Tony's mouth went dry. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about that.

"We'll make our own fireworks!" Clint's voice cut through the party, and Tony shot Rhodey a look. 

Rhodey patted him on the knee. "I got this."

"Thanks, bud."

But when Rhodey vacated Tony's side, he was replaced almost instantly by Steve.

"Having a good party?" Tony asked.

"Amazing," Steve breathed, squirming on his stool.

"Everything, uh… comfortable?" Tony shot Steve a significant look, and Steve's mouth fell open in response.

His eyes darted around the room as if anyone was going to be able to tell what they were talking about. "Yeah," he breathed. "Much better. Thank you."

"Anything for you." Tony tried to shoot him a smile, but he knew it came out a bit tight.

"I should mingle," Steve said, weirdly pointedly, like he needed Tony's permission to leave.

"Yeah, good. It's your party. Mingle away."

Steve stayed a moment longer, large - unfairly beautiful - eyes fixed on Tony. "Okay," he finally said, and he was gone.

The party absorbed Tony again, but no matter who he moved to talk to, he always kept himself in sight of Steve. The birthday boy was definitely acting a bit odd: distractible, extra clumsy, off-balance, and still blushing to high heaven the whole time. If Tony didn't know better, he'd say he was just drunk. But he'd become intimately acquainted with Steve's particular brand of drunk over the past few weeks and this wasn't it. This was something else.

Maybe it was just the pressure of being the centre of everyone's attention today. Perhaps the combination of wearing a specialty sex toy while also being the centre of attention. That was probably it. Nevertheless, feeling responsible for his tech, Tony kept an eye on Steve.

It didn't get worse, though. Steve's drunkenness followed the arc Tony expected, and by the time the out-of-towners had left, Thor had gone to bed, and Maria was passed out on the couch with her head in Nat's lap, Tony had stopped worrying. Steve too had entered the soft, sleepy stage and he was snuggled down between Sam and Bucky, nursing his fourth piece of cake.

"I'm just saying," Clint slurred, leaning sideways against Tony, "we have access to things that go boom and it's July fourth! We should… boom things."

"You're supposed to be setting an example," Rhodey shot back. "Not blowing up the tower."

"A small boom," Clint insisted.

"Well, that's it for me," Tony announced, slinging his arm around Clint's shoulders. 

Clint smacked a kiss to his cheek then struggled to re-right himself. "You're getting old, Stark. You've barely lasted longer than Thor and he's on Asgard time."

Tony shook his head. "You kids have fun. Don't break into the liquor cabinet. Or the explosives cabinet." He reached out and squeezed Steve's arm. "Happy birthday."

Steve's eyes widened a little. "Thanks, Tony," he said roughly.

Tony saluted the rest of the room then turned and left. Up in his room, he peeled off his socks and shoes, stretching and yawning. He found a bag of M&Ms on the counter and stuck his hand in it, even though he wasn't really hungry.

"Sir?" JARVIS inquired.

"Yeah?"

"Captain Rogers has requested your presence in his rooms, sir."

Tony squinted up at the ceiling. Steve was still at the party, surely. Tony had just seen him there ten minutes ago. If he had something to say to Tony, why hadn't he said it then? Tony's next thought was, rather cruelly, _Maybe he wants to see you_ **_alone…_ **

"Shut up," Tony muttered to himself. More likely, there was something wrong with the plug. Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time and his heart stopped. There was an application running. One he hadn't started himself.

Steve's vibration application. 

The one Steve didn't know about.

Shit.

"Oh my god. Oh fuck." Tony scrambled to cancel the program. It had been set to low, thankfully, but when he looked through the logs, it had started at half past eight and Steve had stayed drunk through the whole party. That meant Steve'd had a vibrator in his ass for the past four hours, at his own party, and hadn't known how or why it was going off. "Holy. Shit."

Steve was going to be _so mad._ No wonder he wanted to see Tony in his room. Good god. Why hadn't he _said_ something? "Hey, Tony. I think the Boozinator 5000 is mal-fuck-tioning," would have had Tony running diagnostics on his phone and he would have _noticed._

"For fuck's sake."

Well, there wasn't anything for it. He had to go down and apologize. It would only make it worse to put it off, pretending he was asleep already or something. It was Steve's birthday; he owed him at least an apology and a little grovelling.

Tony took his phone, his bright red cheeks, and the tatters of his dignity down to Steve's rooms and knocked on the door.

 _I'm so sorry,_ he practiced.

The door sprung open.

"Oh, thank _god,"_ Steve moaned, and then he grabbed a handful of Tony's shirt, reeled him in, and kissed him.

"Oh," Tony said awkwardly against Steve's lips. "What?"

Steve pulled back half an inch. "Tony?" he breathed.

"Steve you are so drunk." And god, it was weird not tasting alcohol on his breath but knowing he was beyond wasted.

"No, I'm not," Steve insisted. "I programmed the plug to end at midnight. I've been sober for half an hour."

"You must be drunk. It must be broken."

"Why?"

"Because you're kissing me?" Tony could sense a sort of who's-on-first aspect to the conversation, but the whole thing was slipping out of his fingers before he could get a good grip on it. "Aren't you?"

"Yes…" Steve spoke slowly and carefully, like Tony was the drunk one. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I'm - I feel like confessing that to you would be something I'd remember doing. Seeing as how it would be a fairly big moment for me, and all that."

Steve pulled back all the way now - which was a distinct disappointment but also a relief - and frowned. "Was the vibrator not your way of coming on to me?"

"Paaardon?"

"You've been torturing my ass all night, Tony! It's _your_ plug. It had to be you doing it. Weren't you trying to get me all riled up? Or… was it just like a birthday present kinda thing?"

Tony gaped, no doubt doing a rather spot-on impression of a confused carp. "Excusez-moi? No, no, it was not a birthday present thing! I mean, well, yes it was. But no! Hold on." Tony sucked in two deep slow breaths and let them out again. "I made the plug for you as a birthday present and I wanted to tell you about the vibration feature, but I got awkward and didn't. And then at the party, my butt butt-dialled your butt."

Steve just blinked.

"I had the app to control the vibrator on my phone. I was going to transfer it to your phone, but, well, yeah. So I put my phone in my pocket, and then I must have sat wrong and…"

"And your butt butt-dialled my butt," Steve echoed back.

"Yup."

"You sat on your phone funny and turned on my vibrator."

"That's what happened."

"So I spent my entire birthday party trying not to pass out from torturous pleasure because of _your ass?"_

"Yes. And not in the fun way, I'm afraid." Tony squeezed his eyes shut. "Steve, I'm so, so sorry. I would never do something like that to you on purpose, not without at least _warning_ you. It's not like you could consent when the thing was stuck inside you."

"I could have taken it out."

"I know, but still. I wouldn't. And I'm really sorry. I should have locked the program to just you."

They stood there in awkward silence for far too long.

"Um. Well," Steve said. "Sorry I kissed you."

Tony blinked. "Wait."

"Yes?"

"You kissed me."

"I did do that."

"Sober."

"Yes."

"Steve."

"Tony."

Tony opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then opened it again. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I thought you were flirting with me."

"Via a vibrating, alcohol dispensing, custom butt plug?"

"Yes."

"I'm usually more of a flowers and cheesy one-liners guy, actually," Tony informed him breathlessly.

Steve shuffled a little closer. "Okay…"

"You thought I was flirting with you and your response was to kiss me."

Steve was smiling softly now. "Yes, yes it was."

"Hey Steve?"

"Yes?"

"Are those space pants? Cause that ass is outta this world."

Steve was full-on grinning now. "Was that the cheesy one-liner?"

"Yes." Tony grabbed a handful of the front of Steve's shirt. "I'll have to put in an order for the flowers."

Steve's arms hooked around his waist. "Tony are you flirting with me?"

"Yes. What are you gonna do about it?"

Steve's gaze flicked down to Tony's lips. "I was thinking I'd strip down, get out one of my less multi-functional vibrators and let you finish what you started at the party… but I'll settle for a kiss for now."

Tony's knees nearly buckled as Steve bent and kissed him for the first time. "Thank god I'm such a gifted multitasker," he said, in between heated, messy presses of his lips against Steve's. "I think I can handle both."

* * *

Amazing art from tina! (thirstinart.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Tony Stark Bingo:  
> Collaborator Name: FestiveFerret  
> Card Number: 3137  
> Square Filled: - T4 The End  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Steve/Tony  
> Rating: E  
> Major Tags: Crack, Enemas to Lovers, The Butt Chug Fic


End file.
